The Viking and the Zero
by ZERGSOMG
Summary: Skeggjoldr is a proud Viking warrior fighting in a last stand defense of his people from the invading Frankish army. When a fatal sword strike is about to hit him, a divine miracle happens that wins the war, but Skeggjoldr is no more, for he is in another world...
1. Prologue: The Battle of the Plains

Disclaimer: I don't own Zero no Tsukaima or the Norse pantheon.

**Prologue: Skeggjoldr's Day**

Skeggjoldr was one of the best warriors in his king's land. No one could match him in open combat when he was wielding shield or sword. He was greatly commended by the king of Denmark and received much gold and land in the last military campaign, where he led a counter-assault against those Christian warriors from the south. He was tall, with a toned body, and loved nothing more than fighting and serving his people. At the age of 27, he had already acquired a beautiful wife and was expecting a child in the next harvest. In the morning every day, he would train his body and made sure he was in top fighting condition in case of an invasion. While his wife disapproved and believed the Christian invasions were over, Skeggjoldr was an experienced fighter and left nothing to chance. Outside of battle, they tended to the farmstead they owned and Skeggjoldr would go to the nearby village to drink and trade when the day was calm.

In the wee hours of dawn one day, a man in full leather armor rode up to his farmstead. Looking quite out of breath, the man, who was a messenger, told Skeggjoldr the king sought him at the court within the week, and that war was imminent. Skeggjoldr was unfazed, being used to the horrors and effects of war through the 6 campaigns he fought since he was old enough to hold a sword. His wife, however, was less than pleased.

"You mustn't go!" she cried. "The king will be able to find another man to lead the army. We barely just settled down here and we will have children! How would you like your son to be born without a father?"

Skeggjoldr grunted and looked away with no expression on his face. He thought for a while and solemnly replied "He will have to learn the hardships of life, for life is measured by how you cope with hardship."

His wife stared at him, almost crying but told herself that that was the way of the warrior, and that he cannot tarnish his fighting honor from avoiding the battle. If he escaped this one, she thought, there would be more for the Christians were stubborn and kept invading. She sat, on the tree stump outside, weeping and hoped for the best.

Skeggjoldr, meanwhile, had stood up and walked over to his shed, where he kept his weaponry. His sword was made from the finest steel from the blacksmith's, and his shield was made by himself, and has stood the test of countless battles. He grabbed his sword and went to his anvil to carve the runes of victory on the blade, as that was what protects his life while fighting. The gods taught man how to live life and gave them such a prosperous land, and the people would listen to the gods' instructions. Skeggjoldr spent day and night working in his shed, meticulously carving rune after rune, each with the utmost precision and skill. Skeggjoldr appealed to the mighty Aesir Thor for luck and victory in battle, and headed back in his house. He needed to rest before the journey to the court tomorrow.

When Skeggjoldr walked in his bedroom, his wife was still awake and silently sobbing in bed. He sat down and tried to comfort her. "I have fought many battles. I have won all of them. Why will this one be any different?" he asked. His wife sniffled but calmed down a bit. The next morning, Skeggjoldr was gone.

Skeggjoldr rode off to the court the next morning on his trusty black steed Sleipnir, named after the eight-legged horse of Odin. He bred the horse himself, and raised it since his childhood. Sleipnir was not only fast, he was a stunning horse that all the villagers admired. The clinking of his sword and shield continued at a steady pace as he raced to the court of King Harald. The 30 kilometer journey was long and would have tired out an ordinary person, but Skeggjoldr rode on from dawn until evening, when he arrived at the court of King Harald. Entering the wooden gathering hall that served as a palace, all the warriors stopped eating and became silent. The man who had led their people to victory countless times was walking through, and was greatly honored and respected amongst the people. Skeggjoldr walked up to the king in a very formal manner and bowed deeply.

"What does my lord need of me now?" asked Skeggjoldr. "Have the people from the south come again?"

King Harald nodded solemnly. "Yes. They have returned, and have brought ten times the men last time. We must meet their offensive near the southern river within a week to halt their advances."

Skeggjoldr thought for a bit and looked around him. "Last time…" he began. "Last time, we had only six hundred fighters. We were overwhelmed but the flooding and weather held them back. Now we have even less and they come back with ten times more!?" Skeggjoldr seethed as he imagined the impossible situation. The other warriors in the room thought too, as they had never thought of the numbers before. Did this mean the end of their lifestyle? Their people? Their traditions and history would all be but lost to the world if the invaders could not be held back. History has shown the efficacy in their northern Germanic friends: the Christians invaded their land and converted them all by force, under threat of death.

King Harald had a saddened look on his face and after ten long minutes of silence, spoke again. "This is the only thing we can do. We either sit complacent and lose everything we hold dear or we fight and perish with honor. We shall hold a feast to the gods for luck and victory!"

The bleak speech and outlook still managed to liven up the warriors, who cheered the king. Skeggjoldr joined the celebration as well, but deep inside, he was distraught over the news. He could not let it show though; he was a strong leader who cannot show weakness. And so the next three days were grand feasts and offerings to the gods.

The day had come, and the Christian army marched forward, destined to capture and conquer the Scandinavian lands. The measly band of hundreds was set to meet the large Frankish army at the plains near the court. The one thing that King Harald and Skeggjoldr could hope for was a divine intervention, and otherwise, both armies knew the Vikings did not stand a chance, even if they were more battle-hardened. Skeggjoldr stared at the enemy commander, waiting for the other to make the first move. Without a warning, Skeggjoldr raised his sword into the air and let out his greatest battle cry. The six hundred Vikings charged forward, swords, spears, and shields in hand to meet the Franks. It would be one of the bloodiest invasions the Franks had ever attempted, it both sides would feel the total brunt of full out war.

Skeggjoldr rushed in the enemy lines, slashing and stabbing, blocking and parrying. In the first minute alone, he thought he must have felled a score of enemies at the least. The repetitive motions, slash, dodge, block, strike dragged on throughout the day. The Vikings were tiring, but it seemed as if an endless swarm of Frankish troops kept marching over the horizon to reinforce the enemy. The rhythm of combat slowed for Skeggjoldr and there were more and more near misses from enemy swords. The battle had dragged on from dawn to dusk, with no end in sight. A spear thrust from the side pierced Skeggjoldr's side and exhausted and injured, he collapsed on the ground. With the finishing blow coming from above, Skeggjoldr gripped his weapons tightly, powerless, and saw his eternal fate at Valhalla await him. The steel sword of the Frankish soldier swung down aiming to sever Skeggjoldr's head from body.

And all of a sudden, almost like the divine intervention they were hoping for, a gigantic explosion engulfed the field, rendering much of the troops unconscious. A concussive force a strong as Thor's hammer swept through the plains of Denmark, reaching miles away to the neighboring villagers, who felt a low rumble. Fear of divine wrath drove the remains of the Frankish army back, not to invade for another decade. The two hundred Vikings that still stood rejoiced at their impossible victory, but Skeggjoldr was no longer there.

**Author's Note**: Hello everyone. This is my first attempt at writing fiction of any kind. I will try to keep the chapters of medium length and try to update frequently. Anyways, while reading the LNs (which I am using for source), I noted that names were drawn from only two places: Norse mythology and Louis XIV's France, and I thought, why not put a proud Viking warrior as the familiar of Louise. I might subconsciously draw ideas from the other fics I read before, and feel free to point it out to me if there's anything glaringly obvious. I'm not sure how this will turn out, and I'm writing this pretty much on a whim, but hey, review and favorite if you like it.


	2. Chapter 1: Skeggjoldr and the Summoning

Disclaimer: Do I need to put one? I don't own ZnT, although the characters are from it are taken from Dumas's work _Louise de la Valliere_. I also do not own the Norse pantheon, although I wish I did.

Author's Rant: The runes in the anime/LN are completely wrong. Gandalfr is rendered as "Gundolf", Lifthrasir is rendered as "Lifdrasir." This bothered me greatly. In _my_ canon, the runes are "Gandalfr," with the _proper _runes (gebo-ansuz-naudiz-dagaz-ansuz-laguz-fehu-raidu) compared to (gebo-uruz-naudiz-dagaz-othalan-laguz-fehu).

Fun character facts: Louise Francoise de la Valliere was one of the first mistresses of Louis XIV but fell out of favor and died in a convent when she was replaced by the marquise of Montespan. While Kirche is German for church, the House of Anhalt-Zerbst is a German noble house from which the great Russian czarina Catherine the Great was born into. The House of Orleans is the cadet branch of the main house of Bourbon, the ruling family in France.

As Skeggjoldr saw she shining steel blade descend upon him, he saw a bright green light surround him as an enormous explosion shattered the din of the fighting. He tried to let a small smile knowing although his time was over, he had done his part and would join his fellow slain warriors on the eternal fields of Valhalla. A moment later, Skeggjoldr wondered why he did not feel…dead. He looked around him and only saw a black empty space. This was definitely not the warrior's land told in the stories, not the plains of Valhalla where he would train and battle until the end of time.

The Academy of Magic, Tristain, in the land of Halkeginia

Louise Françoise de la Valliere was just a young aspiring mage studying at the world-class Tristain Academy of Magic. Her theory grades were amongst the top in the school; indeed she spent much of her free time studying school texts and ancient tomes alike. Her practical grades were a different matter, though. As much as she tried, as much as she studied, she could not get a single incantation to achieve her desired result. Casting a most basic prestidigitation would result in a fantastically large explosion and sending about half the students present to the school infirmary. Her mother was a strict woman, yet among the most powerful woman in all of the continent of Halkeginia, and with each passing year, showed more and more disappointment and grief over her daughter's failures.

At school, she was locked out of her peers' social groups, mocked by her classmates, and looked at with pity by the teachers. Every night, she would lie in bed and cry to herself, asking what she had done to deserve this inferior treatment. Her parents looked on with worry and sorry, and the time was nearing when she may face the ultimate disgrace of expulsion, and be forever shunned amongst her noble peers. As the days dragged on with no signs of improvement, Louise had become bitter behind a wall of false cheerfulness. Her classmates were surprised at her gradual increase in enthusiastic cheerfulness but dismissed it as her perseverance and studiousness. And despite Louise's insecurities, the planet kept spinning and the day of the Springtime Summoning Ritual had arrived.

The Court of King Harald, Denmark, Northern Europe

"WHAT!?" King Harald roared at the remainder of the small band of warriors who returned. "Are you saying my best leader and fighter is not only dead, but you cannot find his body? What kind of terrible searching have you been doing?"

"M-m-my lord," one of the warriors stuttered. "After the large explosion, everything was in disarray, but Skeggjoldr did not return back to the camp that night. We have searched the plains of battle many times for wounded and to honor our slain, but I'm afraid they have passed to Valhalla."

Seeing the reaction from the group at his outburst, King Harald calmed down. "I apologize for yelling. This campaign defending against the Franks has been grueling for all of us. Indeed, I am upset at the disappearance of Skeggjoldr. Inform his wife at his homestead that he is missing but not that he is dead. Prepare a honorable funeral for him and the rest of the slain. However, send a small group to ask around and find traces of where Skeggjoldr or his body lays and bring it back at all costs."

"We understand," said the band of men. They stood up from their kneels and silently walked out of the hall. King Harald tried not to weep at the news of his best warrior, and his friend.

The mass funeral for the fallen was held the next day, with a ship laden with treasures and the bodies of those who perished cast off into the sea, with the women weeping and the men standing solemn, watching with respect as their brothers-in-arms passed on.

Tristain Academy

The morning of the summoning, Louise woke up from her luxurious four-post bed with a splitting headache. She had spent the night before rehearsing the incantation, repeating the holy words over and over again, and when she slept, she was plagued by the nightmares of her classmates jeering and her family rejecting her. She trudged down to breakfast where she alone ate in silence while the rest of the students bustled in anticipation of their summons.

At noon, the second-year students gathered on the traditional summoning field in the Austri Court. Thirty five aspiring young mages, all of different skill, lined up to perform the fateful summoning determining their lifelong companion, while their teacher, Jean Colbert, supervised them and took notes on the individual summonings. The most elementary mages, only capable of a single element, received mundane beasts like cats or owls while highly talented and advanced ones summoned magical beasts with the spirit of the element. The talented and promiscuous fire mage Kirche von Zerbst summoned a large fire lizard, which she promptly named Flame. All the while, Louise was hiding in the back of the crown, sweating heavily and hands lightly shaking. She did not want to go, for fear of embarrassing herself in front of all her classmates.

"Has everyone completed the summoning?" Colbert asked. He looked around and counted thirty…four? beasts around him.

"The only person left is Louise. Louise the Zero!" Kirche yelled out, laughing. The rest of the student body was swept with laughter and started giggling and whispering amongst themselves. Poor Louise stood against the courtyard wall, face flushed, looking even more mortified than before until Professor Colbert took control again.

"Silence!" Colbert called out with a strong commanding tone. "Louise, perform your summoning immediately."

Louise walked to the clearing in which the students formed a ring around her. She silently voiced a prayer to her god Brimir and lifted her wand, hoping to not explode the courtyard like she did with all her spells. She began the incantation with a tone of confidence yet inside, she could only feel worry. After clearing her throat, she breathed and began.

"My slave that exists somewhere in the world. My divine, beautiful, wise, powerful servant, heed my call. I wish from very bottom of my heart, answer to my guidance and appear!"

"What kind of chant is that?" whispered one student to another.

The rest of the students stared. "That was a… interesting chant Miss Valliere," commented Professor Colbert. Louise was on the verge of crying when nothing happened. The other students saw and began laughing again. The pain burned through Louise's heart and she fell to the ground.

Empty Space

Skeggjoldr looked around him. It was a black void, with no landmarks. In fact, there wasn't even solid ground and it seems he was floating in space. He couldn't move himself laterally and could only manage to flail his arms around in vain. He looked down. It seems as if his bloodied sword and beat-up shield were still with him. He wondered what he was doing here. There didn't seem to be anyone else here. Was he dead? He couldn't remember if the sword swing actually hit him or not. A sudden jolt of pain reminded him that his spear pierce wound at least was still there.

"Hello? Is there anyone here? Why have I been sent here from the heat of combat?" Skeggjoldr called out to no one in particular. No response came back, though Skeggjoldr wasn't sure where any response would come from. A whispering of a wind perked his ears. It grew louder and sounded like…words. It was a language Skeggjoldr was not familiar with, although it resembled the convoluted tongues of the upper class Franks and the people from further south, the Romans that had passed through his land several times in his life. It grew steadily louder over the next thirty seconds or so and it was a roaring blast in his ears when the chant died off abruptly. The black void began to crumble apart as far as Skeggjoldr could see and he began falling through the empty abyss and lost consciousness.

Tristain Academy

A small pinprick of light appeared before Louise, rapidly expanded to a man-sized oval, and promptly exploded. The students laughed louder. "_This is worse than nothing happening,"_ thought Louise. Colbert, coughing from the dust, swept his staff and cleared the smoke away. All the students gasped loudly. Louise still wallowing in her sorrow, peeked up and stared. She could not believe her eyes.

In front of her lay a tall man, covered in dirtied iron armor, fully armed. The bloodied sword and shield made Louise shudder and the bleeding hole in his side was disconcerting. Who had she summoned? From what intense battle had he come from? No no no, she thought. This had to be a mistake. She had to appear strong. The man began to sit up.

The other students saw the man, who was out of the students view before.

"Louise, you summoned a commoner!"

"Louise you're so bad, you summoned a half-dead man!"

The jeers rang throughout the crowd. Louise was shaking. It was indeed a commoner. She had successfully summoned a…familiar? but a human _commoner _at that. He did not appear to be wealthy and if anything, looked little more like a peasant sent to battle.

"Professor Colbert, this has to be a mistake. Let me try again," pleaded Louise, who did not want to be further mocked and embarrassed over nature's choice as her lifetime companion.

Professor Colbert shook his head. "No. This is a sacred ritual, perfected by the founder Brimir himself. Bind him or you will fail and be expelled."

Louise sighed, and ignoring the laughter of her classmates, spoke to the man. "You. Commoner. I have summoned you and I have to complete the ritual. Get up now."

The man simply stared at her, and replied in a string of words, which to the learned ear of Colbert, resembled an archaic form of Germanian. Kirche's ears perked at the familiar sounding tongue, but couldn't quite understand all the words. To the rest of the students, the summoning of not only a commoner, but a foreign commoner was even more cause for laughter.

Louise approached the man, who reached for his sword in a threatening gesture of defense. Colbert, noticing the man's expression, readied his staff in defense. With Louise's noble, sheltered upbringing, the gesture overridden all feelings of self-preservation and she lashed out at the rude commoner. Slashing down with her wand, she launched the only magic she could, a medium-sized explosion. The commoner's eyes grew wide with surprise as the blast hit him and knocked him to the ground still conscious. Realizing her opportunity, Louise quickly chanted "Pentagon of the Five Powers, bless this man and make him my familiar!" and gave a chaste kiss on the man's lips. The man quickly tried to push her off but was overtaken by the searing pain of the engraved runes on his hand and promptly blacked out.

Skeggjoldr woke up on a grassy field. _Is this the sacred fields of Valhalla?,_ he asked himself. A girl of short stature and long pink hair walked up to him with a highly annoyed look on her face and yelled a garble of words at Skeggjoldr. _It's the same voice from the black abyss. This must be one of the Frankish lands_, Skeggjoldr thought. Unable to respond properly, Skeggjoldr addressed the angry young girl in front of her. "How did you bring me here? Where am I?" he asked and was greeted with laughter from more children behind the girl. The girl began walking toward him with a menacing look on her face, and Skeggjoldr instinctively gripped his sword in self-defense. This action was greeted with a blast to the face, knocking him down and a…kiss? Skeggjoldr shoved the girl off, after he was married, and infidelity was a sin. He was overtaken with a burning pain on his hand like no other he had ever felt before, as if a thousand spears were being thrust in his palm at the same time. Skeggjoldr's mind shut down at the massive overflow of stimuli.

When Skeggjoldr regained consciousness, the teacher and girl were staring at him while the other children were somehow flying away. Surprised, Skeggjoldr managed to keep a straight face as to not arouse anymore unneeded suspicion in this clearly foreign land. He looked at his left hand, the reason for his blackout and was even more surprised to find runes carved in the back. The runes were readable to him. The man was looking at the runes, and trying to copy them. "Gandalfr," Skeggjoldr said. The man looked surprised and realizing what Skeggjoldr was referring to, saw that Skeggjoldr was right and left. Louise looked at Skeggjoldr with surprise, seeing as he was literate in runic, an arcane and relatively unknown subject. Skeggjoldr, seeing as how the only thing he could do was to follow Louise, walked back with her to her room.

In Louise's room, Skeggjoldr not knowing the land's customs, stood in the middle, with his shield strapped on his back and sword at his side. Louise was complaining, knowing Skeggjoldr could not understand her, but continued anyways. Growing increasingly annoyed at being summoned by an annoying young girl who couldn't shut up and dragged him from a battle deciding the fate of his country, lost his patience and yelled "SILENCE!" Not knowing what he was saying but angry the commoner would use that tone of voice with her, Louise rapidly cast what was a spell of silencing to continue her rant. Skeggjoldr was once again blasted across the room. When Louise continued her extended rant again though, Skeggjoldr understood her. This time, he silently pulled out his sword, walked to her, put the cold steel against her neck and said in a low voice, "Shut your mouth or I will spill your blood on the floor." Louise gulped when she heard this. No commoner talked back to a noble like this. She wanted to blast the impudent man across the room again but all her self-preservation instincts screamed no. She trembled with fear and managed to whimper out a quiet response.

Skeggjoldr didn't like killing children contrary the stories the Franks told about their culture, how they slaughtered everyone in their path killing every man, woman, and child. Skeggjoldr and his comrades simply wished to protect their homeland, and that simply involved slaughtering all invaders. Women don't invade countries. Soldiers did. He removed the blade from the whimpering Louise's neck and she quietly sat down.

Louise saw the aura of hate emitted from the man. Noble or not, he could overpower her easily in the small room. _No, _she told herself. _I am the master, and the familiar will always obey and never harm their masters._ She gathered her confidence and proclaimed in an arrogant tone, "Commoner, I am Louise Francois de la Valliere and you are my familiar. As my familiar, you are to obey all my orders, but as such a stupid commoner, I doubt you could do much." She clearly forgot about her near death experience from nearly a minute earlier.

"You will not refer to me as such," came the simple response from Skeggjoldr. "I am Skeggjoldr, warrior serving under King Harald, and you have stolen me away from a battle that would decide the fate of my land.." Skeggjoldr was seething at this point. "You then call me a commoner and familiar, and call me stupid. I see no reason to follow your orders."

"You…You impudent familiar!" Louise lashed out again. "You have the familiar branding. You are my familiar whether you like it or not. You have no title, you cannot go against the word of the Valliere family."

"And why not? I am not part of your lands, and who is to say I am without title? I have been made into a jarl by the King for my duties on the battlefield, I lead the troops into battle at the front, I have won forty nine battles and lost none. The runes mean nothing to me when the contract is forced onto me."

Louise found it hard to argue against Skeggjoldr. With the appearance of a barbarian, he was well versed in rhetoric and furthermore, a jarl? It was an old title, found in the oldest history books, unused for thousands of years and even then, only by the barbaric Germanians to the north had used it. If he was a noble, from some foreign country, this could turn into a sticky situation for Louise. She still had her pride as the Duke's daughter, and she could not show weakness.

"A noble you claim to be? Show me your magic," came the haughty reply of Louise. She was sure she had Skeggjoldr in a corner now, no noble would be armed with sword and spear, and all nobles were mages.

"Magic? Magic is practiced by the erilaz but they are fools who do not show results. Magic is a hope we call on to aid in battle, but only fools believe it is so. Nobility is determined by the strongest, the bravest, the most valiant of warriors on the battlefield," replied the low voice of Skeggjoldr.

"A country without mages? Without true nobles? What a barbaric place you must be from. How can you have order without us, the nobility?" Louise condescendingly waved her hand. "You are my servant now. Wash my clothes and wake me at dawn." She threw a pile of dirty clothes at Skeggjoldr's feet.

_It was useless to reason with her_, thought Skeggjoldr._ She is a pea brained, ignorant fool who knows nothing of life_. "And where am I supposed to sleep?"

"You will refer to me as master. That pile of hay on the ground will be your bed."

_Shhhink_

Skeggjoldr whipped out his sword and stabbed it through Louise's clothes on the ground. He was angry before, now he had killing intent. "I will do no such thing. If you expect me to sleep on that pile of trash, I will kill you in your sleep. In fact the reason I do not do so now is because you have to return me home. You can wash your damn clothes yourself."

Louise stood in shock as she saw her clothes ruined. Frightened at the clear threat and seeing that Skeggjoldr was serious, Louise could only sheepishly mumble, "I cannot return you. There is no such method."

"Then look for one. Because your life depends on it." Skeggjoldr walked out the room and slammed the door shut.

As Skeggjoldr wandered the halls of the academy he thought back on the bizarre events of the day. When he walked outside, he noticed a couple sitting on a bench with the girl giving the boy food. The boy was dressed incredibly vainly, with a frilly shirt and holding a flower. Skeggjoldr snorted at the sight and walked away to find a place to sleep. Finding a large tree, he sat down there and looked up. _Two moons? Does that mean I'm really in a different world? No use worrying about that now, I guess_. Skeggjoldr drifted off to sleep under the light of both moons with his sword at his side.

Author's Note: I am not completely satisfied with my writing of the summoning but I'm not sure how I could have made it better. Oh well. Also, although I will use the LNs as source, I liked the anime version of the summoning better. There were more details to work with, so I went with that. I hope I'm not being too close to canon or am accidentally plagiarizing other fics. I read a LOT of fics and may draw some plot details from them. Anyways, I thank all the readers that have left feedback, and I hope I can finish the second chapter as soon as possible.


End file.
